


of Cold Toes and Rosy Cheeks

by Benaroony



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Gay Sex, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, M/M, fire alarm at 3am, this would never happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:47:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5043610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benaroony/pseuds/Benaroony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas' shitty day gets worse, then a whole lot better. </p><p>a.k.a I wanted an excuse to pratice writting sex and newtmas is the peanutbutter to my jam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of Cold Toes and Rosy Cheeks

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a smut thing that would never actually happen, let me indulge. If any of you have requests, send them here http://trashiesttrashthatevertrashed.tumblr.com/ (un-beta'd)

Thomas was pretty sure his night could not get any worse. He’d missed half of his first class, which had been long and dull; someone had spilt water in the lecture hall and he’d slipped in it, smacking his ass on the floor and making his entrance even more noticeable; he’d come home to someone’s cat in his apartment shredding his furniture, then had to clean it up; and now this. Some fucker had set off the fire alarm at 3am, so they all had to wait outside in the freezing cold for the fire department to declare the building was safe. Thomas would have been fine with the last one if he wasn’t standing barefoot in a sweater and boxers in -10℃. The landlord was going to have a real problem if he didn’t get inside soon, he was seriously considering mass homicide he was so pissed. At least he wasn’t the only one suffering, there was some poor sucker standing in even less than Thomas. He was in nothing but pair of bright purple boxers, which hung from his slim hips. Eyes running up and down the lithe figure, he couldn’t help the way his cheeks flushed when he imagined the man shivering just as violently, but for a completely different reason. He strode over to the stranger, an odd sense of purpose overcoming him. He really wanted to meet this man, cold be damned.

“You gonna be good?” he said, eyebrows knitting together in concern. 

“Dunno,” the young guy shivered violently, “I might have to share that sweater with you.”Thomas let the man’s lovely english accent over him, shivering just as hard as the other guy. 

“That could definitely be arranged.” his voice hitching ever so slightly at the end of his sentence.

“Oh lovely, hold me will you? It’s fucking cold.” the young man stepped into his chest and burrowed deep into him, letting out a relieved moan. Thomas’ arms immediately came up to wrap tight around him, holding him close. 

“What’s your name?” he said softly, running a hand through soft blond hair and eliciting a pleased hum.

“Newt, what’s yours?” Thomas felt him moving and then warm breath washed over his neck, making his brain shudder to an abrupt halt. 

“Thomas, Newt’s an interesting name.”

“Thomas is quite generic.”

“Hey now Buddy-”

“So do you mind if I call you Tommy?” his brain stopped dead for the second time that night, the lilt of Newt’s voice stunning him silent.

“Y-yea, sure.” flushing pink at the stutter in his words and the feel of Newt chuckling gently into his neck, Thomas was distracted enough to forget the cold-as-dicks night. The chilly air on their bare legs was soon forgotten, they were so wrapped up in each other. They asked questions that they would never have the courage to ask in the light of day, talking about anything. 

Thomas was surprised when the fire fighters finally declared the building safe, not aware of how much time he and Newt had spent talking. Deciding that letting go of Newt was not something he had any inclination to do, he held on tighter and suggested they continue their chat at his place. Climbing the stairs while connected proved to be a bit of a challenge, but did it; soon enough they were outside of Thomas’ door. 

“I hate to say this, but I need to let go of you to open my door Newt.”

“You’re breaking my heart here Tommy.” Newt whispered with a chuckle and slipped from Thomas’ grasp. Twisting the handle and giving the door a shove, they entered. Newt immediately reached out and took hold of Thomas’s outstretched hand, wrapping himself back up in the warm embrace of the other tenant. It was almost like the world had stopped around them, like they didn’t both have classes in four hours; like the world had stopped spinning, and they were floating in space untethered. In that moment, Thomas wanted nothing more to pull Newt further into him, kiss him breathless, make him moan, flush pink, make him beg for more He was craving the way Newt would look, hair a mess, lips swollen, chest and neck spotted with love bites. 

“Tommy.” Newt’s breath ghosted over Thomas’ neck, making shivers run down his spine and pull him closer.

“Yea?” Thomas’ lips brushed Newt’s ear, a breathy gasp escaping the blonde.

Pulling his head from the warm shoulder where it rested, Newt ran thin fingers down from Thomas’ temple to jaw. Gentle strength turning his head, and then they were kissing. It was sweet; gentle pressure, soft open mouthed movements, feather light touches flitting from jaw to neck to shoulder to back, where they solidified. Quiet noises filled the entry way, Thomas was stepping forward, pushing Newt against the wall; knee sliding between willing legs. hey gradually became louder, Thomas’ hands slipping down to Newt’s boxer clad butt, dragging him across his bare thigh. Gradually they got louder and rougher until teeth were clacking and moans reverberated through the small apartement. Newt pushed Thomas, causing them to separate, though Thomas immediately whined at the loss of contact.

“You have a bedroom, yea?”

“‘Course I do.” Thomas nipped at Newt’s sensitive neck, dragging his teeth across his pulse point.

“Lead me to?”

“Hell yes. C’mon.” Thomas stumbled over a scattered pile of textbooks and into a warmly coloured living room. Newt noticed a couch, armchair, and TV, then they were in the hall and towards the bedroom. Another warmly toned room, then he was being manhandled into a soft bed with plush pillows. Thomas fumbled around his night table, then set a condom and bottle of lube on the stand. 

“You sure you wanna do this?”

“Please, Tommy, Please. Can’t wait much longer.”

“Right, right.” sliding his fingers into the waistband Newt’s purple boxers, he snapped them against the pale skin of his hips teasingly before hooking his fingers and pulling them down, reveling in each inch of creamy skin revealed to him. Uncapping the lube and pouring some out into his palm, he reached out and grasped Newt. Sliding his hand up and down a few times experimentally and swiping over the head, before establishing a rhythm. He kissed Newt until they couldn’t breathe, then wrung beautiful sounds from his wrecked mouth. Hips arching off the bed and head thrown back, Newt looked every bit the angel Thomas thought he was. 

Before Newt was finished, Thomas slid a finger into him, feeling the slick walls flutter and clamp with his release. Gently coaxing Newt back to awareness with soft pressure, butterfly kisses, and sweet nothings, Thomas smiled. Slightly overstimulated and basking in the afterglow of orgasm, he couldn’t help but brush his finger against Newt’s walls and search for the spot that would make him arch his back and moan. He passed over a small bump, then Newt was arching with pleasure. His hair was a gold halo against the gray bedspread, his red lips parted around a moan. 

“I need you to make that face again.”

“Jesus Tommy, are you going to get me off like that all night? ‘Cause if so, I’m going to have to move in with you.” He shifted as Thomas added a second finger and began to thrust and scissor his fingers, brushing over his prostate over and over again. Soon Thomas had three fingers in Newt and he was meeting him thrust for thrust. 

“Please, Tommy, ohgodtommydon’tstop. Please don’t stop.” removing his fingers and wiping them on the bedspread, he stood up. Slipping out of his sweater and underwear, he reached over to the nightstand and snagged the condom. Rolling it down, he added another coating of lube before sliding into newt. He paused halfway in, letting Newt adjust. 

“You good?”

“Yea, yea. Please move. Now preferably.” his cracked voice pleaded, and Thomas couldn’t help but respond. He snapped his hips until they were flush with Newt’s. Thomas’ pace was anything but gentle, the sound of flesh hitting flesh reverberated through the room. His hips began to stutter, the rhythm and pace getting thrown off. Knowing he was close, he slid a hand from where it rested by Newt’s head to stroke him in time with his ragged thrusting. For the second time that night, Newt felt bliss wash over him; Thomas followed soon after. Groaning and rolling off, Thomas slid out and tossed the condom. He came back with a wet washcloth and cleaned them both up a bit, before pitching headfirst and curling around a sated and tired Newt. They were out instantly, sleeping peacefully.


End file.
